When is a door not a door?
by Sandra Sand
Summary: Stiles has been having a hard time. Between the nightmares and his dad's endless questions about the supernatural, he's getting really stressed. That's where the pack comes in. AN: This is just me trying to offset the intensity of this season by providing numerous pack cuddles. MINOR SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST EPISODE OF 3B)
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Haven't really written anything in a while, but I had too many feels to keep in so... This story is mostly going to be pack feels, but there might eventually be some smut, so the rating might change to M. Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters associated with it. If I did there would be puppy piles every day.**_

_Stiles lay still in his bed, nothing moving accept the rise and fall of his stomach and the flickers of movement under his eyelids as he dreamed. To a casual onlooker, it might appear as if he was having a good dream, as whimpers and moans filled the air and the sheets dampened by sweat. It could've been mistaken for a good dream, until his eyes snapped open and his screams filled the air. Stiles moved his arms in front of his body, as if to protect himself from an invisible attacker. The door burst open and his dad ran in, pausing to take in the sight before him, dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt, his service pistol in hand. Realizing that there was no one else in the room, he quickly laid down his weapon and sat behind his son, grabbing his wrists and pulling him against his body. Stiles' screams died out, and soon he was sobbing openly into his father's shoulder._

"It's okay, Stiles, it's okay. Just a dream, that's all," John whispered, releasing his wrists and hugging him.

There was a clattering sound outside, and Stiles flinched, a yelp ringing out in the room. A curly head poked into view from the only window in his room, which was on the second floor. Isaac pulled open the window with clawed hands, swinging himself up and into the room.

"What's wrong?" Isaac asked, "I heard screaming."

Stiles whipped his eyes on a corner of his shirt and pulled away from his father.

"Nothing, just a dream," Stiles said.

Isaac glanced at Mr. Stilinski, "Sir, you can go back to bed. I'll stay here for the night."

Mr. Stilinski nodded, pushing himself up off the bed and walked out, giving his son a 'we'll talk about this later look as he closed the door. Isaac sat down on the bed next to Stiles, neither of them looking at the other.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Isaac asked softly.

"What do you think?" Stiles snapped angrily, "What were you even doing near my house?"

Isaac flinched at the harsh tone, "I was just taking a walk when I heard you. I thought you were in trouble so I-"

"Scaled my house and came in the window? You need to stop doing that. This is my room you can't just come in here whenever you want."

"I-I thought someone was hurting you. I wasn't trying to invade your space, I just thought you needed help!"

Stiles sighed, "I know. I'm sorry, I just...I keep having these dreams. Nightmares. I wake up from one and I'm in another, a dream within a dream. I literally have to scream myself awake."

Isaac sat silently, listening to the admission.

"Have you ever heard of sleep paralysis? When you sleep your brain basically disconnects itself from the body. You can't move when you dream. That way when you run in a dream you don't actually start running in your bed. But sometimes when you startle awake your body is still paralyzed, and all you know is that you can't control your own body. It's terrifying," Stiles ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry. I used to have nightmare all the time. Staying with Scott has helped, a lot. Talking through helps a little, but I guess that depends on the person. Regardless, I'm staying here tonight. I'll make sure you're okay so your dad can get some sleep," Isaac said, sitting down in the desk chair.

"Thanks. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?"

He shrugged, "I don't mind. You're pack, we're supposed to look out for each other."

Stiles smiled weakly, laying back down on his bed, forgoing his blankets and instead curling up on his side to look at Isaac.

"Do you think this has anything to do with...what you did that night?" Isaac asked softly, afraid that Stiles would be angry at the inquiry.

"I guess it could but I don't see how."

"The other day, Allison almost killed Lydia."

"What?" Stiles exclaimed, lurching himself into a sitting position.

"She shot an arrow at her head. If I hadn't been there to catch it Lydia would be dead. Allison said that she thought it was Kate."

"Her dead aunt?" Stiles' brow furrowed, "Maybe it did fuck us up."

"Well...you did die. You all...almost," Isaac dipped his head, shielding his eyes with his hair.

Stiles sat on the edge of his bed, "You okay man?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just, well, all the people I care about almost died. You're all I've had since my father died. I know I don't mean as much to you all, but to me you're everything."

Stiles sighed, "For the record Isaac, you do mean a lot to me. To all of us. Even though I am human, I still feel our pack bonds. Even with Peter, which surprises the hell outa me cause he's creepy as fuck. And he still won't admit that he has a lair."

Isaac laughed, "Peter is surprisingly sane these days. And Allison still feels like pack even though her family tried to kill all of us."

"Peter and Chris are actually getting along. They went out for coffee last week and it didn't look awkward at all."

"How do you know?" Stiles raised his eyebrows at him.

Isaac rubbed the back of his neck shyly, "I might've uh…spied on them when I saw what was happening."

Stiles laughed, "Man I wish I could've been there. Could you hear what they were talking about?"

Isaac leaned forward slightly, as if he was about to share a big secret, "That's the weird part. They were talking about completely normal-"

"What?" Stiles asked when Isaac broke off.

Isaac held up a finger, "I hear something."

Stiles held his breath, staring into Isaac's now gold eyes.

"Oh," Isaac's shoulders relaxed, "It's Scott, he's coming up."

Stiles groaned and laid back on his bed, "I need to put bells on all of you."

Isaac smirked and wiggled his eyebrows, "Kinky."

"Oh my god shut up!" Stiles threw a pillow at him, which Isaac caught easily and threw back, catching Stiles in the face.

"Oh it's on now doggy!" Stiles exclaimed, tossing the pillow back at him.

An all out battle broke out and pillows flying through the air nonstop, Stiles rising to stand on his bed and Isaac remaining in the chair but laughing. A pillow caught Stiles in the legs and he fell against the wall. Isaac threw his head back and howled with laughter, and Stiles, taking advantage of this, threw a pillow at his face and while it blocked Isaac's eyes, Stiles jumped from the bed and wrestled him to the ground. Isaac reacted quickly, shifting slightly so that he could flip the slimmer boy over. Straddling his hips, Isaac pinned both his wrists to the ground, his golden eyes shining like beacons in the dim light of the room.

Isaac leaned his face down and murmured in his ear, "I win."

Stiles gulped, his mouth falling open slightly.

"Hey guys-what the hell?" This was the scene Scott walked in on.

Stiles' shirt was rucked up, both of them breathing hard, Isaac on top of Stiles, and their faces close together. Isaac practically flew off of Stiles, almost tripping on the bed in his haste.

"We were just uh…" Isaac stammered.

"No, no it's fine I mean…I care…wait no I don't care that your…_you know_ but you didn't tell me and I think I'm just going to go now," Scott rambled, a slightly traumatized expression on his face.

Stiles sat up, "We were just pillow fighting. Oh god now we sound like girls."

Scott shook his head, "No, no, it's okay, I'm fine with it. You don't have to-"

"Scott," the werewolf's head whipped up at the serious tone, "Listen to my heartbeat. I'm not lying to you. Isaac and I were throwing pillows at each other, things got slightly rough, but we are not dating and we weren't doing anything."

Scott's shoulders relaxed at the steady beat of Stiles' heart.

"Okay, okay, I got it now. But what are you doing here in the first place?"

"I was taking a walk and heard Stiles screaming so I came up. He had a nightmare and I know his dad has to work in the morning so I thought I'd stay and make sure he'd be okay," Isaac explained, sitting back on the bed now that the temporary crises had been averted.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares," Scott frowned at his friend.

"Well it's not exactly a great conversation starter. I figured I was just stressed at first but now…I don't know. It might have something to do with us dying."

"We should talk to Deaton," Scott said.

"Fine. But not now, I'm tired. You staying?" Stiles asked, crawling onto the bed behind Isaac.

"Yeah, since Isaac is. Mom's at work so," Scott said, moving to open Stiles' closet to pull out the sleeping bag, blanket, and extra pillows he knew were in there.

Isaac pulled his legs up off the floor to make room for Scott to spread out the sleeping bag, moving back to lean against the headboard.

Stiles raised his head so he could see Scott, "You guys don't have to stay here you know. I'll be okay. You should sleep in your beds."

Both werewolves heard the fault in the steady beat of Stiles' heart.

"Nah, we're already here. Besides, this sleeping back is ridiculously comfy," Scott shrugged.

"Okay, if you sure you're good," Stiles said, laying his head down on what he thought was his pillow but what was actually Isaac's thigh, "Wow you werewolves are hot," he said, almost nuzzling into the warm, jean clad leg.

Isaac smirked, "Thanks."

Stiles rolled his eyes and flicked him on the nose, "You know that's not what I meant."

"Uh, guys?" Scott interrupted, sitting on the floor, "It's getting weird again."

"Hm? Oh," Stiles rolled over onto his real pillow and frowned at the coolness of it.

Isaac shifted out of the bed and plopped down next to Scott, reaching over him to grab the other pillow. Scott jumped up to get the lights, and soon the darkened room was filled with the noises of moving blankets and grunting werewolves as the two got situated under the large comforter. Stiles' peered over the edge of the bed, directly over Isaac's own face.

"Could you be any louder? Trying to sleep here," he grumbled.

"Sorry," Scott whispered, "Goodnight."

Stiles snuggled back into his pillow, his eyes falling shut. Isaac and Scott curled up in the blanket, their backs to one another. Silence overtook the room, and soon the only noise in it was Stiles' soft snores.

**AN: I hope you enjoyed my attempt at writing again! :) I'll try and get another chapter up soon, if there's any interest. Btw I don't acknowledge Erica or Boyd being "dead."**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So here's chapter two! I thought I'd better get it out before tonight's episode since I figure we're all going to need some pack cuddles afterwards. Thanks to those of you who reviewed, it feels awesome that after not writing anything in forever I'm still semi-decent! Btw I might be turning in part of this in my english class (I have actual permission to write fanfiction in class for two weeks, it's kindof amazing) so feel free to tell me any grammar/spelling mistakes I make. Thanks for reading! :) **

Stiles was awoken by the front door slamming shut, which he knew was his dad leaving for work. He relaxed back into bed, glad that it was a Sunday and he could sleep in.

"Stiles?" A voice startled Stiles, causing him to jump and fall out of bed.

Unfortunately, as the floor was occupied by two sleeping werewolves, he ended up sprawled on top of Isaac, who snapped awake, his hands going to the thinner boys waist protectively.

"What's wrong?" He murmured, blinking sleep from his eyes.

"I-" He began, before being interrupted by Scott waking up, taking in the situation, and throwing himself against the wall.

"Seriously guys! I'm right here!" He yelled, covering his eyes.

Stiles was about to respond when laughter interrupted him from the window. Turning his head, he found Erica perched on the windowsill, all of her body inside except for one swinging leg. Stiles realized that it must have been her voice that had startled him.

"I need to put a closed sign on my window," Stiles grumbled, pushing himself off of Isaac and throwing himself back onto his bed.

"Aw, don't stop on my account," Erica pouted, pulling her leg in the window, her long blond hair swinging as she straightened.

"Shut up," Stiles groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

Erica just smirked at him and leaned back against the wall next to the window as another hand appeared in the window as Boyd pulled himself in.

"Hey," he said to Stiles, who hadn't noticed him.

"Are you kidding me? Is anyone else planning to invade my room later?"

"Just me," Peter said, his head popping up in the window.

At this Stiles jumped out of bed, waving his finger at him.

"No, creeper wolf is not allowed in here!"

Peter just winked at him and pulled himself the rest of the way into the room before sitting down in the desk chair. Stiles kept glaring at him but Peter met his glare with an amused smirk until Stiles sighed and sat back down on his bed. No one really objected to Peter being a part of their pack anymore, after all, they could already feel the pack bonds they had to him. They'd accepted Lydia, Allison, and Jackson, so it wasn't much of stretch to accept Peter. Still, Stiles wasn't going to make it easy for him after what he had done to his childhood crush and what he'd made Stiles almost do. Even though he was perfectly happy being human, when Peter had asked him, he'd wanted to let him bite him. He wanted to be like the others, and not just be the one who researched and then stayed out of the way. He was tired of being fragile.

"So what's up?" Erica asked, crossing her arms, "We felt Stiles' panic last night. We almost came over but we figured since Isaac was here and hadn't called us that everything was okay."

Stiles sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Just had a bad dream."

Isaac shook his head as he stood up, "Not just a bad dream. We think it might have something to do with his dying. And since Allison seems to be having problems too…"

"But why am I not affected?" Scott asked.

Boyd shrugged, "Maybe because you're a werewolf?"

"Did it occur to you that it might actually just be dreams? You all have been under a lot of stress, maybe it's just catching up to you," Peter said, leaning forward.

"I mean, that's what I thought at first but Allison was awake and almost killed her best friend at the same time I'm having the worst and most realistic dreams I've ever had. I think that's an awfully big coincidence," Stiles said.

"I still think we need to go talk to Deaton," Isaac said.

"Fine, we can go see Deaton later, but I need breakfast first," Stiles said, pushing himself out of bed, "Who's hungry?"

Stiles rolled his eyes at his stupid question as everyone shot up to follow him downstairs with eager eyes. Being friends with all these werewolves was seriously starting to cut into the amount of food he had in his house.

"Scott," Stiles called over his shoulder as he walked down the stairs, "Call Allison over here so we can all go over together."

Scott nodded tiredly and rubbed his eyes with his hands before turning to go back upstairs.

"Okay, I'm making pancakes and that's it. How many does everybody want?" Stiles asked, pulling ingredients out of the spacious fridge.

"Five," Boyd said at the same time as Erica shouted, "Nine!"

"Three?" Isaac asked hesitantly, years of living with his abusive father making his voice quiver.

"Scott wants five," Peter said, "I'll help."

Stiles smiled at him gratefully. One of the best things about Peter (besides his ability to keep up with Stiles' sarcasm) was that he could cook. When Peter had first told him, Stiles hadn't believed him, until numerous baked goods appearing in his room every other day convinced him otherwise. It was nice cooking alongside someone else, even if they didn't talk much while doing it. Stiles like that silence, it was comfortable. He hadn't cooked with anyone (decent) since his mother, and although it was weird at first, Stiles quickly became comfortable cooking along someone whom he'd once help kill. Stiles was interrupted in his musings by Scott thudding down the stairs.

"Alli will be here in thirty minutes," he said, "and Jackson and Lydia are on their way over. Jackson said something about getting notes from you?"

Stiles poured in his first pancake, "From me?"

"Bullshit, you know he felt your panic last night and just wants to check on you," Erica said, hopping up to sit on the counter next to the stove in the hope of getting one of the first pancakes.

Stiles stayed silent as he flipped over his pancake.

"What's Derek doing?" Scott asked.

"I'm not sure," Erica said, "He gave us the day off and then left."

"He's probably running around the forest glaring at innocent animals," Stiles said as everyone laughed, "Okay, first one's done."

He immediately got bombarded with shouts of "I want it" and one "Me me me" from Erica, with one notable exception.

"Isaac," Stiles said, handing it to him, the smile Isaac gave him well worth the pouts from everyone else.

Turning back to the stove, he saw Peter snickering into his pancake before handing it over Stiles to Erica. As the rest of the wolves were distracted by Erica dancing around the room, lording her pancake over them, Stiles nudged him with his shoulder and muttered a quiet "shut up" in his direction. Peter had been making jokes for weeks about Stiles being the "pack mom" and Stiles himself had started believing it.

"Lydia and Jackson are here," Boyd said as got took his pancake from Peter.

"Can somebody go let them in? I think the door's locked," Stiles said, handing a pancake to Scott.

Erica skipped off too let them in and Stiles gave Jackson a pancake when they came into the kitchen.

"'Sup, Stilinski?" Jackson asked, leaning on counter next to Lydia who was perched on the stool Boyd had left for her.

Stiles stayed silent as the rest of the pack filled him in and he and Peter cranked out pancake after pancake. Once everyone had their fill (or rather, once Stiles had had enough of cooking), Peter set three aside for Allison as Stiles and Isaac began washing the dishes.

"Hey guys? I know we want to go see Deaton today, but can we go after lunch? Let's watch a movie or something together," Isaac suggested as the rest of the pack grinned at him.

"Okay, Peter and I cooked, we get to pick the movie," Stiles said and led the pack into the living room.

Stiles and Peter knelt in front of the extensive Stilinski movie collection. Peter pulled out one and showed it to Stiles, his eyebrows raised.

"Little Red Riding Hood, ha-ha, very funny," Stiles said, "Now put it back before they get any ideas."

Peter pouted at him as he put it back before pulling out another, "What's this?"

Stiles gaped at him, "_Avengers_?! You've never heard of _Avengers_?"

"I have been rather, _indisposed_, for the past few years," Peter said.

"But it's the _Avengers!_ That's it, we're watching it," Stiles said, grabbing it from his hands and jumping up.

Turning around after putting it in the player, he saw that most of the spots in his living room had been taken. Lydia, Jackson, and Scott were on the couch, Scott clearly saving the spot next to him for Allison. The three betas were curled up together on the floor with Isaac in the middle, his head pillowed by Boyd's arm and Erica's head resting on his chest. Stiles rolled his eyes when he realized the only other seat left was next to Peter in the armchair, meaning he'd practically have to sit on top of the older wolf.

"Scoot," Stiles said and Peter moved his body over to make room.

Stiles carefully sat next to him, Peter's arm going around his shoulders once he was settled and Stiles started the movie. The little girl had just led Dr. Banner to the hut when Allison let herself in.

"Hey Allison!" Stiles shouted, "There are pancakes in the kitchen for you!"

"Thanks Stiles!" She shouted back, going into the kitchen and coming back with her plate.

She sat down next to Scott, his arms going around her. Allison ate her food quickly, and then returned to the kitchen to wash her plate. When she came back she leaned into Scott and whispered something in his ear before settling against him. Stiles tossed his legs over Peter's and leaned his head back on his shoulder, answering Peter's occasional questions. It sure was hard remembering that he was supposed to be mad at Peter when he was so warm and, quite frankly, cuddly. Surrounded by the pack that he was quickly beginning to consider his family, Stiles settled in for the rest of the movie.

**AN: Thanks for reading! **As you can see I have a soft spot for Peter lol. I'm not really sure what pairings I'll have later in the story, so if any of you people reading have a suggestion, let me know! **I'll definitely have another chapter out by next Monday, but I'll probably have another (shorter) one out on Wednesday. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm really sorry this has taken so long, but a lot of shit has come up and i haven't had time to work on my writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

Stiles startled awake by a hand shaking his shoulder. Blinking away sleep, Stiles groggily looked around.

"I fell asleep?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, when Loki was escaping," Peter answered, wincing as he stretched out his neck.

"Did I hurt you?" Stiles asked, turning his head to look at him.

Peter gave him a look.

"Yes, yes, I know, werewolf," Stiles rolled his eyes.

Peter was radiating warmth and Stiles felt way too comfortable to move, but he could see that the rest of the pack were getting restless and hungry. Sighing, Stiles got up, Peter's hand on his back to assist him.

"Alright, pups, I'll go make lunch and then we can go," Stiles said, heading into the other room.

He'd just gone to the grocery yesterday, so thankfully his fridge was fully stocked. After a few minutes of rummaging, Stiles finally decided on making sandwiches. While he was gathering ingredients from the fridge, he felt more than heard Peter come into the kitchen. Turning, Stiles dumped some of them into Peter's waiting arms.

"Let's just go with sandwiches, I don't want to take too long for lunch anyway," Stiles said, grabbing out the cheese and then shutting the fridge.

Peter, who had already grabbed out plates and was pulling out bread, simply "hm"ed at him.

"So what did you think?" Stiles asked, slicing a tomato.

Peter shrugged, "It was okay I guess."

"'Okay?'" Stiles exclaimed, "That movie is epic! It has everything!"

Peter just smirked at him as Stiles pouted into the bread he was slicing.

"I'll find something you'll like, wait and see," Stiles threatened, gesturing at him with the knife.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Hand me the bread, Stiles."

They worked in companionable silence until all the food was ready, and then called in the others. Stiles shuffled off to the side as his kitchen was filled with hungry werewolves.

"Hey!" Scott exclaimed from the middle of the pack, "This ones mine!"

"I got here first!" Isaac yelled, pulling at the plate in Scott's hand.

"Did not!" Scott pulled the plate back.

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did-"

"Enough!" Stiles said, pushing the others aside to get to them, "Scott, take this one."

Stiles handed Scott another sandwich.

"But-" he said.

"No. Take this one and apologize to each other."

Scott and Isaac continued glaring at each other.

"Fine then. I'll just take these back…" Stiles began, reaching for the plates.

Isaac and Scott almost bit their tongues off trying to apologize and curl their bodies around the sandwiches at the same time.

Once everybody had finished their sandwiches Stiles was left with a kitchen full of discarded plates, crumbs, and an exasperated Peter lurking in the corner.

"Why Derek thought teenage werewolves were a good idea I'll never know," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, to be fair, he's not much better," Stiles said, grabbing the broom from the closet.

"Point."

"Who broke a plate?" Stiles sighed, sweeping up the white shards.

"Jackson and Erica. I think he wanted her crust."

Stiles snorted, "Of course he did. Remind me to get paper plates next time we go to the grocery."

"You have a list somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. It's under my phone."

Peter went over to it and whistled, "That's a lot of food."

"You know how much you people eat? That's only half of what I need to get!" Stiles exclaimed, wetting a sponge and wiping down the counter.

"Can you even afford all this?"

"Not really. Why do you think I haven't fixed my headlights yet?"

"Stiles." Peter began, "You should have told me. I'm going to give you access to my credit card account."

"What? No!" Stiles shook his head.

Peter pulled out his wallet and handed him a card, "Here."

"No, Peter, that's your money."

"Fine. But next time I'm going with you to the grocery. You do more for this pack than anyone, we don't need to put you in debt."

Stiles grinned, "I knew you had a soft spot for me."

Peter snorted, "As if. _You_ however have a soft spot for the pack. You take care of them, even when it's hurting you. So if I want to buy you groceries, you'd do well just to let me."

"All right, all right, you've convinced me."

"Good," Peter said, walking back towards the living room then pausing, "And for the record, Stiles, I still think you'd be a good wolf, but even as your human self you do an excellent job watching over the pack."

When they finally made it to Deaton's clinic, it was pouring. There was so much water falling from the sky that Stiles was glad Scott insisted that he drive, because Stiles could barely see two feet in front of him. Swinging his long limbs out of the car, Stiles grimaced as he was immediately soaked from head to toe. They all ran inside, except for Lydia, Jackson, and Peter, who were apparently too dignified to do anything but walk quickly. Scott went to fetch Deaton while everyone else attempted to dry off. Stiles watched as Erica shook out her hair, smacking Boyd and Isaac in the face as she did so. He was glad when Scott and Deaton came into the room, because Stiles could only resist making a wet dog joke for so long.

"Good afternoon. I'm guessing this isn't just a friendly social call?" Deaton said, looking around at all of them.

"No, it isn't," Stiles said, stepping forward, "We need you to elaborate on the side-affects of us dying."

"Ah. Is there something specific you're concerned about?" Deaton asked.

Allison stepped forward before Stiles could answer, "I haven't been able to shoot my bows because my hands shake too much and make me miss everything. Lydia came with me into the woods so I could practice, but I thought I heard something and went to investigate and…I saw Kate. I shot at her and all the sudden Isaac was holding the arrow and Lydia was standing where Kate was. And I've been having dreams- nightmares -about her too."

"I've been having nightmares too," Stiles said, "And sleeping paralysis. And waking dreams. I'm starting to have trouble telling my dreams from reality."

"Unfortunately, I don't have the answers you need. The side effects are unpredictable." Deaton said.

"So we came here for nothing?" Jackson exclaimed, irritated.

"What I can do is give you something to help you sleep and stop you from dreaming altogether," Deaton said, shuffling around in a drawer behind him, "You won't be able to take it every night, but it will give you some reprise."

"I guess that will have to be good enough," Stiles said, taking the bottles Deaton handed them and then giving one to Allison.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help," Deaton said.

"More like no help," Jackson muttered.

Stiles glared at him, "Nobody has all the answers. Thanks for the pills."

With that Stiles turned and led the pack back into the stormy weather. Stiles ended up wedged in the backseat of his jeep between Boyd and Isaac, who was trying to inconspicuously rub his face against Stiles', while Scott took the drivers seat and Erica plopped in the passenger seat and began fiddling with the radio.

"Hey, Stiles?" Isaac asked timidly, "Can we go back to your place and watch more movies?"

"That sounds good Isaac. I'm ordering pizza for dinner though. I've done enough cooking for you lot today. Can somebody call the others and ask if they want to come?" Stiles responded.

"I got it," Erica said, pulling out her phone.

Stiles leaned his head against the headrest and shut his eyes. While he was glad he had pills, he had been hoping Deaton would have more information for them. Stiles supposed he could research it himself and see what he could find, but that could take awhile and he didn't know how much he could take. Tomorrow would be okay, but Stiles was dreading going back to school. Of course, being in a car filled with werewolves who smelled emotion, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by Boyd who bumped his shoulder with his own.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah," Stiles said, rubbing his hands over his face, "I'm going to have to figure out what to do about school if these pills don't fix my waking dreams."

"We'll figure it out, Stiles, and get through it," Scott said, looking at him in the rearview mirror, "just like we always do."

"Thanks, buddy."

"The others are in, by the way, but Peter's going to try and find Derek." Erica said.

"Great," Stiles grinned at her, "Now what movies should we watch?"

Scott, Erica, and Isaac instantly began shouting over each other, and Stiles would've been worried about Scott's ability to concentrate on the road if he weren't a werewolf. As it were, Stiles just met Boyd's eyes with an exaggerated eye-roll, and then rested his head on Boyd's shoulder. He liked Boyd. He was quiet, but solid like a rock. Nothing seemed to faze him. He wasn't shy, exactly; he just didn't have a lot to say. When he did speak, he was either saying something wise or cracking a joke. The day Stiles discovered Boyd's sense of humor was the day he decided that Boyd was officially awesome. Right now, however, all he wanted was to be able to rest on Boyd's shoulder and listen to his pack and the rain slapping against his jeep.

**AN: Thanks for reading! Please review if you can and let me know if i have any spelling or grammar mistakes in here, because i don't have a beta! And i really don't hate Derek, i'm just nervous about writing him. I promise he'll be in the next chapter!**


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